


A Step Too Far

by impish_nature



Series: A Step In The Wrong Direction [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Grifting Stars AU, Reverse portal (sort of), The Beginning of the End, broken bridges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 07:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16057970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: Grifting Stars AU. After thirty years of work, thirty years of effort, Stan is finally ready to open the portal. Unfortunately for him, the world has never been fair.Part 4: The possibilities were endless- so how did things go so wrong?How did the chance of a lifetime break things so effortlessly?





	A Step Too Far

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I am so sorry this has taken so long. It was first drafted so long ago that I’ve had to reread and reread it because I wasn’t happy with the writing style anymore. Hopefully it’s better now c: I’m happier with it now. <3

"So, that's it, is it?"

"That's it." Ford huffed out a disbelieving noise, shock and awe mingling in equal measures. He regarded the small item that was sat between them, innocuous and unassuming, his mind unusually blank in its wake. Both of them couldn't help hesitantly watching it with a healthy dose of incredulous scepticism, almost afraid it would vanish as soon as they took their eyes off of it. Afraid that given half the chance the universe would decide that they weren't allowed this moment of good fortune and swallow it whole right before their eyes. 

Though, perhaps, that wasn't quite true for both of them. Stan seemed to be scrutinising it with more scepticism and doubt than he himself was, mistrustful that the answer to everything, really  _was_  sat within reaching distance. His eyebrows were deeply furrowed over a thoughtful gaze, his lips a thin deliberate line as if he wanted to ask more but didn't want to ruin things, didn't want to start a fight or accidentally point out some unseen flaw in their still unspoken scheme. The spark of hope in his eyes wasn't quite as bright as Ford felt it should have been, considering his earlier explanation of the situation.

In fact, it had taken a lot for him not to just snatch it from him as Stan threw it thoughtlessly from hand to hand, not quite knowing the full extent of the item that he had managed to procure for them. Though even  _with_  the knowledge Stan didn't seem quite on board with it all.

It looked... too ordinary. Like it wasn't the answer to all their questions wrapped up in an unassuming shape.

He could understand why Stan wasn't ready to hope just yet.

It just sat there, metal on wood, a modest, practical trinket now relegated to the small bedside cabinet, sat between two equally small and simple beds that they had found for the night. 

Stan had almost laughed the first time they had found themselves at a place like this. Shook his head, that even across the multiverse, some things never did change, and a motel room would always be a motel room no matter how far and wide you travelled.

Just like how a small tape measure should always just be a small tape measure.

But Ford never worked in 'usually's and 'always's. Not in that sense at least. For as long as he could remember, he'd been more interested in the unique and the anomalous. The coincidences and the random chance and all the little indescribable miracles that lingered in between.

And that small, unassuming tape measure really was the answer to everything.  _If_  they used it right.

They could go back home.

He could defeat Bill.

He could finally rest, back in his home dimension, knowing that Bill would never darken his doorstep again.

"Twelve months..."

Ford blinked as his brother spoke up again, after what felt like an age of silence permeating the room. He restlessly twisted some small item Ford couldn't discern between his hands, whatever he had found to take the tape measures place now that Ford had managed to pry it away from him and set it somewhere safe. "What?"

"Just... thinking." Stan shrugged, leaning back against the wall, resting his head back against it to look up at the ceiling, arms moving to circle his knee. "Twelve months and we might be able to fix things, I just- it feels like I've been here with you forever, but it also feels like no time has passed at all, you know?"

"Yeah." Ford settled down, eyes sweeping round the room, taking in their meagre belongings and the small city outside the window. It had been good to have Stan around, time had gone so much faster than when he'd been all on his own. The nights hadn't been quite so dark, nor as perilous with another person to keep watch, his brother's soft humming enough to keep even the ghosts of the past away. Nor had the days been so monotonous and routine. No longer did he become lost inside his own head in the middle of nowhere when there was another abrasive voice to break the patterns. The usual cycles that his mind whipped through crushed quickly by a half mumbled curse or joke from his peripheral. 

Not that that had happened straight away, of course. They both knew that. The tense silences and fizzling atmosphere, cold and unforgiving, were hard to truly forget. So maybe it had taken some time, and a few catalytic catastrophes, for them to slip back into old habits but once they had- it almost felt like Stan had never left his side at all. Once the connection reformed, solidified and took root, they might as well have always been travelling like this. They'd always said they would after all, it just felt like they were fulfilling that promise, albeit a few decades late.

It felt easy and simple now. It just made sense to have his brother by his side again and to put the past behind them.

Maybe it was because they were so close to fixing everything, maybe it was because he knew that there was a chance they could start afresh, but the feeling of forgiveness that had been slowly washing over him, felt even stronger now. 

Maybe it was because he never thought about the future as a tangible reality anymore. The present was where he needed to be, and with Stan- it had just become a given to forget the past and forget the future and just live for a while. Take what they had whilst they had it and stick to having comfort and happiness, if only for a short while.

It really was nice to have his brother back, once he ignored everything that had happened before between them. 

But... the future didn't seem quite so far away anymore though. 

And he had Stan to thank for that.

He'd stopped thinking about going home a long time ago. After a while in the multiverse, his thoughts had turned to survival and to taking Bill down once and for all. If he never got home, well, that was the price he'd willingly pay to make sure Bill never got to see that dimension as well.

But now with the time tape in their hands, and hindsight for once in his favour, he knew what mistakes he had made that first time he'd fought Bill. He could do better this time, weigh up all the variables and think up all the options. He'd make sure he defeated him and then if he could- he'd go home with Stan.

He'd meet the kids he'd heard so much about.

The trickle of hope and excitement at meeting the pair of twins had infiltrated his system, had made it hard to think of a future where he was stuck on this side of the portal without a deep set sorrow burrowing into his heart.

After all these years, he wanted to go home again.

He couldn't seem to stop the feeling, could only let it bloom and blossom and grow. It strengthened his resolve to beat Bill, kept him thinking of the future beyond that instance instead of it being the defining moment that would draw everything to a reassuring close.

He hated the feeling as much as he in turn loved and rejoiced it, knowing full well that if this didn't work, if things didn't turn out how they planned then-

No. He couldn't think like that. Maybe yesterday, maybe even earlier that morning he could have crushed the hope of meeting them, and let himself peacefully spend his days with his brother by his side, travelling the multiverse for the rest of their lives. But now they had the answer, that one final ingredient that put their plan into motion.

And it was a pleasant surprise to realise that for once it wasn't just the thought of defeating Bill that was pushing him onward.

They would succeed- they _could_  succeed, now that they were here at this very moment.

"I still don't understand how I managed this in a year when you didn't in thirty."

Ford snorted at Stan's cheeky smirk, childish and proud as he teased his brother across the room. "You'll have to forgive me for not willingly instigating a fight with the time police before. Which I hasten to add- was still dangerous and downright reckless, and we may need to stay hidden for a while once they realise what you took."

Stan huffed out a laugh as he shook his hand flippantly. "Please, they were not the first nor will they be the last creature that I pickpocket. They'll never suspect a thing, even when they realise that- thingamajig is gone."

"Time tape." Ford couldn't help but correct him. He rolled his eyes, trying for exasperated and tired of his antics, though the grin on his face said otherwise. "And is that so? You know, you needn't be  _quite_  so proud about how good you are at stealing."

"No?" Stan's eyebrows rose higher as he sat back up, eyes gleaming in amusement. "Got us what we needed, didn't it?"

"I'm sure there was another way-"

"Yeah. One that would have taken forever." Stan flopped back dramatically, arms out to his sides, still smiling away brightly. "You said you needed one of those thingamajigs and I got you one. Case closed."

He was doing it on purpose. Ford bit down on the correction, that sat begging to be released, on the tip of his tongue. 

"I said it would be good if we could get hold of one, not that you should _steal_  one!" Ford's voice snapped, a high pitch disbelieving crack that made Stan laugh all the harder. But it was true! Sure he might have wistfully stared at the time tape on the belts of the two officers walking past, and yes, he might have made a comment or two about how having one would open up a route to get them home- but it had only been conjecture! He hadn't expected Stan to slip away from him as soon as he realised what he was talking about and start a fight in the middle of the small street they'd been in. Hadn't expected as he stood aghast, wondering what on earth he was doing, that his brother was somehow orchestrating the entire street like a giant puppet show. Setting up a fight, agitating the participants just enough, that it would continue on without him and pocketed the time tape he had wanted while everyone's attention was diverted elsewhere.

Ford wasn't even truly sure he'd seen the exact moment when Stan had stolen it, completely flummoxed by his brother's antics until a few streets later when he had shown him his spoils.

His brother never did cease to amaze him.

He was proud, of course he was. 

...He wasn't about to admit it though. Not yet at least.

But Stan did have a point. He'd never have gotten what they needed that quickly, though he did try to do things far more honestly it seemed. Which was a mildly disconcerting thought, considering he wasn't sure where his moral compass lay anymore.

"So? Do I get a thank you? A compliment? Anything at all-"

"Well done." There was a sarcastic tinge to Ford's words though the amusement that also flooded out with it seemed to eclipse the moment. Stan puffed up where he sat, grin getting wider and wider with every passing second,  and Ford couldn't help but dig a little back to stop him from bragging too much in the near future. "They'll figure out sooner or later that it's missing though."

"Ehh." Stan shrugged, relaxing easily, arms crossed behind his head as he settled. "We'll be long gone by then. Besides, it's not like we need to keep it. Once we're done with it, we can leave it behind, right? They can pick it up themselves without us being around for the consequences."

Ford hummed thoughtfully, relaxing himself slightly as his mind began to spin with the possible outcomes, synapses snapping after the brief lull the initial find had caused. "I guess... that will probably give us only the one shot at the attempt though- if we're thinking of leaving behind the time tape, that is." He tapped his fingers against his leg in time with the thoughts bubbling up behind his eyes. "Though, you're right, it would be the safer option. I wouldn't want to relax, thinking we were home safe and sound, only to get rounded up by the time police for globnar- what? Why are you smiling like that?"

Stan's smile twitched again, eyes alight with mischief and stifled chuckles. "Oh, I don't know. I think it might just be the amount of times you've said 'time police' and 'time tape'. I mean it didn't make a whole lot of sense the first time you told me, but every time you say it, it's like the words lose even more meaning." He shook his head. "I mean _time police_ , really?"

Ford raised a haughty eyebrow. "You're completely fine with the idea of time travel but not with the idea of an organisation to keep time travellers in check?"

"Yeah- OK,  _maybe_  it makes sense when you put it that way- but with all that time on their hands you think they'd come up with a better name than  _time police_."

"I also said the word 'Globnar' and you're taking offence at 'time police'?"

"Yeah, well- at least that  _sounds_  alien."

"...Of course it does." Ford chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "As fun as this is, we should start thinking about this seriously. One shot doesn't give us a lot of leeway even if we do now have the means to go back- why are you  _still_ smiling like that?" The endearment was fast becoming vexed exasperation as his brother continued to smile away softly as if they were merely talking about which direction they would head next, not the entire fate of them getting home in one piece, after almost a year of assuming their chances of doing so were minuscule at best. 

"Nothing." Stan shrugged again, still leaning nonchalantly against the wall. "Just, wouldn't be the first time I've played to those odds. One shot to get through- I'm happy with those odds, they don't worry me as much as they probably should. But, any shot is better than no shot at all, right?"

"I... I guess?" Ford blinked owlishly, unable to really push through Stan's fizzling optimism. "That doesn't mean we shouldn't take this seriously."

"Oh, I'm taking this very seriously." Stan shifted, his posture suddenly more straight backed and focused in a way Ford hadn't been expecting and made him shift back as well, abruptly uneasy by the motion. "We've got one shot? One shot to fix everything?"

There was an anxious heat to the air as Stan's focus locked on to him, ready for an answer. There was something brewing on the horizon with that gaze, but he couldn't put his finger on it, couldn't understand where exactly the conversation was leading. All he knew was that something was amiss, some possibility that he hadn't accounted for and that alone set off an alarm bell at the base of his skull. "Yes? I mean- sort of. Yes. This gives us the means to that. We can take ourselves back in time with this. And then from that moment on, it's up to us to do better with the second chance we've been given."

"We need to make it count then."

" _Yes_." Ford nodded, hands quickly grabbing his journal out of his pocket to start bullet pointing ideas. "Exactly. We need to make this count, so we should start drawing up plans now- bounce back theories and flaws- every detail could make or break this plan- so we need to be ready for anything. And I mean absolutely anything, we need to prepare for every possibility." He scratched as his chin with his pen, eyes thoughtfully staring at the blank page. "I guess, that means it might still be a few weeks until we're fully prepared but better safe than sorry, and- heh-" Ford stifled a soft half smile. "Guess we have all the time in the world, when you think about it like that, right?"

He'd hoped for something. Some kind of chuckle or snort. Something to alleviate the tension that was still emanating from across the room. Break the ice that was forming and get them back on track towards that hopeful path they were now journeying on. His attempts at humour weren't great, he knew that, he hadn't really needed to brush up on socialising in a very long time, but Stan appreciated him doing so, even when they needed to be somewhat serious. And if it got the conversation back on track into familiar territory then he'd compromise to get his brother on side.

Except- Stan didn't seem to hear him.

Or at least he didn't hear that last part at least.

A hand suddenly entered his field of vision, closing the book in his hands without preamble before pulling back.

"There's no need for all that, Sixer."

"No ne- how could you possibly think there's no need?!" Ford's head snapped back to his brother's, who held his ground firm and tried not to flinch in the wake of his expression, though Ford could see the visceral recoil he tried so hard to mask. He knew his words were sharp, heated by annoyance and confusion, but he couldn't pull back and look at the scene objectively when Stan was acting so strange. "What possible reason in the entire multiverse would make you decide that we can just wing this and come out the other side completely fine considering we only have the _one_ chance?"

"Because I already know  _exactly_  what we need to do."

Ford stared at him, face and voice deadpan in disbelief. "Oh, really? Do tell."

"It's simple, really. You take that tape and you go all the way back to thirty- thirty one years ago."

"I- what? That's..."

"It makes the most logical sense, right? We cant go back in time to before that because we're on the wrong side of the portal. And I know for a fact I don't get the portal open for thirty years so..."

"No. That's- no, it wouldn't work."

"What wouldn't work? You go back thirty years to when you first went through and go back through the portal at that point. Like it never happened."

"But it  _did_  happen."

" _No_. No, we can change that." Stan reached forward and grabbed the tape, before shuffling to crouch in front of Ford, pushing it into his hands without hesitation. Ford fumbled to keep a hold of it before it fell to the floor, not expecting the sudden gift. "We have this. So we can change all that, right? We can fix it."

"It doesn't work like that." Ford mumbled, his shoulders sagging as the dots finally connected. He tried to put the tape back in it's place but Stan was having none of it, tightening his hands around Ford's to keep him where he was.

"How do you know? How will we know if we don't try? Maybe- maybe this is our chance. Maybe this way you never get stuck over here in the first place and-"

"It doesn't work like that!" Ford shoved him away, the force of his words exploding out of him as he wrenched himself from Stan's grasp and stood up all in one fluid movement, the tape dropping to the bed without a thought. 

Stan stumbled back with the force, the back of his knees hitting the other bed and he fell back into his seated position. He scowled deeply, crossing his arms as Ford began to pace. "Alright, smart guy, tell me how it works then. Or how this wouldn't work. Cause right now I think it's the best plan we've got."

Ford growled, mind sparking to life at the challenge. His free hand went to his hair, running through it in agitation as he continued to pace. "This is absurd, preposterous- and to think, you actually think it's the best plan we have." He raised his hand up as Stan went to interject, eyes sharp and narrowed as his head snapped towards him. "No. Let me speak."

"Well, get on with it already."

Another strangled noise escaped Ford, frantic irritation bubbling through his veins. He needed to make Stan understand. "Fine. That- Firstly..." He hit his fist into his palm, trying to make sense of all the strands of thought that wouldn't weave together into a cohesive sentence. "Ok, let's get this straight. You think that going back thirty years and dropping back into our dimension won't have any repercussions?"

"Reper-whatnows?"

"Repercussions- consequences!" Ford's arms flailed wildly as he went. "You don't think we'd give your younger self a heart attack, dropping back through the portal, having aged thirty years?"

"Oh- I guess I thought-"

"What? That we'd magically de-age as well? Nope, that doesn't happen. Otherwise time travellers wouldn't be able to travel outside of their life expectancy or run the risk of becoming children again by going backwards." There was a sliver of satisfaction as Stan's mouth snapped shut and his face twisted thoughtfully in response to his arguments. "And that's another thing. You."

"What about  _me_?"

"There'd be two of you. In the same time stream. That's a paradox waiting to happen."

"Implying that I was thinking of coming back with you."

"Of course you'd be- wait, you weren't thinking of coming back with me?"

Time came to a sudden jarring halt.

Ford's chest felt like his heart might have just shrunk a couple of sizes in response to the words, his breath caught somewhere in between. It had become a lead ball, every pulse an ache that rattled through his rib cage. The mere thought of what Stan was planning- was even suggesting-

Stan's eyes widened and he could only assume some of the pain had shown on his face because he suddenly couldn't seem to look at him. His gaze shot down to his own hands, gripping tightly at his knees as he sat there.

You could have heard a pin drop, the tension so unimaginable as Ford waited for a response that he wasn't sure he wanted to hear.

He thought they'd gotten over this hurdle. Stan had promised.

"I- well, you know? You're right. I'm already over in that dimension all the way back then. I just thought- I've had close to sixty years over there, whereas you only got near thirty. So if I could- give you those years back, that is... well, staying over here alone would be worth that."

Ford could feel the forlorn hope pulsing off his brother in waves. It was bitter and tired, and full of wishes that he knew must have accumulated over the years. 

But that didn't make the option anymore viable.

Wishing it into existence wouldn't make it a reality.

That knowledge didn't make it any less harder to dispute it though, any less difficult to stop Stan's hopeful wishes in their tracks.

"Stan, I get it, I do. But it-"

"It doesn't work like that. I get it, you already said. But you need to explain, really explain,  _why_  it wouldn't work if you want me to actually believe you."

Ford stopped pacing as if the action physically pained him to halt. He grimaced, running a hand through his hair once more as he sat down opposite Stan. He felt a gaze burning deep into his skull as he glanced at his own hands. "OK. Right, let's take a step back here- take out the emotion of the situation." He ignored the high pitch note his brother made to that remark. "Just- hear me out.  _Please_. Look, you being here, right at this very moment, shows that in our timeline it took thirty years for the portal to reopen, correct?" He waited for an affirmative grunt before he continued. "Now, I know a time machine sounds like the answer to everything but- think about it, OK? For one, I'll still be pushing sixty, I won't go back to the age I should have been at the time- heck, your younger self might not even think it's me-" Another strangled noise made him hesitate before plodding on regardless. "But that's only the start of the problems. That's thirty years, Stan. Thirty years of choices that I shouldn't have been able to make. Do you have any idea what I could do to that world? What I could change?"

Stan snorted, the sound humourless and derisive. "You're a genius, that's for sure. But I don't think even you can cause that much damage."

Ford stared at him, abject horror plastered across his face. "Stan, I almost caused the end of the world."

"You telling me you'd try and do it again?"

"Of course not." Ford snapped, shaking his head, hands tangling tight in his hair, tugging in frustration, as he tried to get his point across. "But going back at that time- I could change your fate entirely." He really didn't like how that remark was met with silence, an uncaring, raised eyebrow all his brother gave him as he stared back defiantly. "Would you continue working on the portal if I was there? Would I even let you? What would happen if I was there at a time I shouldn't be. There's just- too many variables, too many offshoots that might happen that never should have. Me being there changes everything. Maybe not on a cosmic scale. But still, thirty years of decisions changed is not something to be trifled with."

"What's the point of a time machine if you can't  _fix_  things though?"

Ford dropped his head into his hands, groaning deeply. Why wasn't he getting it? "It's not about fixing things, Stan. It's about breaking things even further. For example- this entire idea is a paradox in and of itself." He looked through his fingers at his brother, his face still twisted stubbornly against his arguments. "In this scenario there are two fixed points in time. The time thirty odd years ago and the one only a year ago. These two points have happened in our lifetimes and there are people on both sides of the portal who are aware of that. So, if I were to go back, and you were to stop working on the portal, you would never have done the things that led up to this moment in time. If you didn't work on the portal for thirty years then you wouldn't have fallen through. And if you hadn't fallen through, you wouldn't have gotten us the time tape in the first place- you see? Do you get what I'm trying to say? Forget worrying about the time police coming after us for a stolen time tape, we'll be in clear violation of every rule they have about time travel whether we still have it on us or not."

"If that's the case how can we use it at all?" Stan leaned forward, his eyes sharp and pained, a disappointed anger that he was trying hard to hold back on. "Tell me what was even the point in grabbing it? Because right now it's just starting to look more and more like a useless piece of junk." He rolled his eyes as Ford made a strangled noise in disagreement. "What? Why would your idea work but not mine? What's so different about one moment in time vs the other?"

"Because nothing in our lifetimes so far has proven that this doesn't work. It's- we're creating a bubble, or a loop essentially instead of a complete and utter paradox. Nothing has changed, we still both spent a year together but going back in time means we can jump back through the portal at the time you fell through and have a chance at beating Bill. We haven't seen that demon since, which believe me is strange in and of itself, so I can only assume that it may be due, in part, to this plan succeeding."

"That's- you have nothing  _at all_  that points to that-"

Ford couldn't help the soft hysterical puff of laughter, hands dragging down his face. "You? You're asking me for evidence? After just making me explain in detail why your plan wouldn't work?"

"I'm just saying- you have no more idea that your plan would work against mine."

"I do! I just explained that-"

"Yeah, I get it! We might cause a paradox, alright." Stan shrugged. "But- we should still give it a try, right?"

"Are you even listening? Do you know what causing a paradox  _does_  to the very fabric of time and space?"

"Yeah but you can't be sure we'd cause one. Isn't there enough of a chance that it wouldn't do that? You said we've got one chance to fix everything and the best bet would be-"

"Oh! For crying out loud- you can't just magic away your mistakes!" 

He hadn't meant to snap.

Ford found himself on his feet again before he'd even noticed he'd moved, the words bursting out of him to crack and echo around the room like a thunderous storm cloud.

It felt like it as well, bubbling and brewing inside him, a tempest of irritation and concern and all the things in between. He hated that Stan thought he could and would leave him behind without hesitation, he hated that he had resigned himself to living out his days here alone when he didn't have to, when they could both go back together and stop thinking about the past altogether if he'd only listen to him. And at the same time there was a bitter resentment swirling through it all, that dark heated anger that had begun to curdle and vanish since they had become acquainted again. It was reforming deep within his heart, each beat another layer that he was twisting around it into a shell. Stan had ruined his shot to finally be free of Bill, and he wanted him to just leave it be now he had a second chance? To go back all those years ago and pretend none of this had ever happened?

Pretend that by doing this in hindsight, everything was suddenly, miraculously, OK? 

It was like sticking a plaster over a fatal wound. Like pretending they were back on solid ground when actually the world could fall apart around them at a moments notice.

Maybe they hadn't made any progress at all, maybe they'd both just been denying the logical truth that they were both still the same people they'd always been. Desperately pretending that the bond between them hadn't been irrevocably broken.

 _Fix things_? How would this course of events ever fix things?

And the real crux of it all, the real deal breaker that made his blood boil and his words sharp as knives was the fact that Stan wasn't  _listening to him_.

For whatever reason his brother wouldn't, or couldn't listen to him.

And every terrible memory, every awful moment they had shared was sliding to the forefront of his mind and reminding him that when Stan didn't listen to him things went catastrophically wrong.

"I know but... If you can go back to thirty years ago then..." Stan gulped, his words soft and hushed against Ford's outburst. "None of this has to happen. S-So if we can just get you back there, then it's like nothing ever-"

"But it did happen!" And with that, something broke inside him. His words flowed without thinking, all the anger, all the pain- any filter that he had gained over the months torn away as his words reverberated off the walls.

"It did happen, Stan. You pushed me through the portal. And you've got to live with that." He was too far gone to care about the way Stan flinched at the words, too busy making sure that this course of action was stopped in it's tracks now. " _We_  have to live with that. It happened and that's all there is to it." His hands tightened to fists as his words became more heated, vicious and pointed to cut any more arguments in their place. He could feel blunt fingernails scratching into his palms, steeling him further to what had to be said, what had to be done. "I've done many terrible things this side of the portal. Many good things as well, but mostly I did what I had to to survive. Whatever it took, I had to survive- and no amount of going back in time will change that! And I don't  _want_  to change that. You know why? Because no matter how much I regret my actions, I know I have to live with them. That they happened, and they happened because of me, and me alone. And I've come to terms with that." He took a shuddering breath, one filled with regrets but resolve too. "I've had to. I've come to terms with the mistakes I've made and dealt with the consequences. I've moved on- maybe  _one day_ you'll manage to do the same." His fingernails began to stab in deeper, bleeding the anger out of him as his words ignited once more. "Maybe one day you'll actually realise that you made mistakes and that no amount of denying they happened is ever going to make them just disappear! Because they won't. You can't. And you need to deal with the consequences." 

He was panting by the end of his outburst, emotionally spent and tired beyond belief. The exhaustion bled through his final remark, bitter and sarcastic. "So, no, we can't go back to thirty years ago and  _fix everything_."

"...Deal with the consequences?"

"Yes." Ford frowned at the cold, dark voice emanating from Stan, his brother's head bowed down away from him.

"Deal with the consequences? You don't think I did that? Every single day?" Stan looked up at him then, eyes sparking with venomous disbelief before they shut down entirely. It was like a dark cloud spread across his face, a shadow where his emotions had once been, resting bare and blank for anyone to see. "Of course not. Of course you think that I'm just- doing this for myself. No, couldn't be that I wanted you to live the life I'd taken away from you!" His teeth bared, a snarl filled with malicious disappointment. "I get it. What I did still happened, I'm a terrible person- fine. But this wasn't about that. This was about you. This was about you getting a second chance, alright?"

Ford's shoulders slumped, his heart heavy. His anger had been doused, leaving him cold and hollow in it's wake. "We have to-"

"Deal with the consequences and move on? Yeah, I heard you the first time." Stan scoffed, voice still lacking that tone that made it sound like him. Ford shuddered, his mistakes thrown before him in stark clarity as he realised that Stan's response reminded him of another time-

That moment just after he'd made a fatal error, when he'd pushed his brother away from him and he'd connected with a heated console. 

That moment Stan decided he wasn't worth his time anymore, when he'd shut down and told him that if he cared more about his research then he could do without him as a brother. 

He hadn't meant to hurt him- not again- Ford blinked as the full gravity of what he'd said hit him, all those things that had tumbled out in anger because Stan just wouldn't  _listen_.

He hadn't meant them- not really, not like that- Of course he knew, of course he understood why Stan was doing this-

"Move on? When have you ever moved on?" The words were laced with a bitter tang, a sour note that dripped from ever single poisonous syllable and straight into Ford's heart. "Even after all this time, I bet the thing you're most angry about is that blasted science fair project, isn't it? And believe me, I dealt with the consequences of that- ten years I spent without a family- without a home, because of that mistake. So don't you  _dare_ lecture me about dealing with consequences, I've been doing it all my life."

"Stan-"

Stan held up his hand, cutting of his retaliation before it had even truly begun. It felt like Stan might punch him again like last time or maybe shout and scream back at him in equal measures to his own earlier fury, but instead his face stayed emotionless, cold and hollow as he stood up quietly. "No. Screw this- Screw you. I'm done. Do whatever you want to do. Go ahead, knock yourself out. We both know you always know what's best for everyone anyway. Don't let me get in your way." And with that he walked away towards the door, slowly and deliberately, without a second glance back at him.

"Don't-"

The door to their motel room fell back into place with a soft click, leaving Ford completely and utterly alone for the first time since his brother had fallen through the portal at his feet.

The words caught in his throat, tired and dejected as the room began to darken around him.

He almost couldn't believe that less than an hour ago they had been laughing together.

That less than an hour ago, he wouldn't have believed an argument was on the horizon, just waiting for it's moment to strike.

"...I'm sorry."

The darkness claimed the words, scattering them to the winds and into the night sky, for no one else to hear.

* * *

When Ford woke up, Stan was already awake, already preparing for whatever the day threw at them with the practised ease they had built over the last year.

The only problem was that he was going through the motions absolutely silently.

There was no grumbling, no groans about old man pains, or chipper whistling tunes designed purely to give him grief and wake him from his slumber.

No there was just... quiet, no sibling banter, no mocking jokes.

Just- silence, cold and solid a wall that he wasn't sure how to breach.

So he didn't.

Instead he outlined his plan, calmly and collectedly. Made sure that every detail was there, every possible outcome thought of throughout a night of tossing and turning, and wondering where his brother had got to, spurring him on to make sure that there were no arguments this time. That everything made logical sense and worked well, anything in an attempt to make his brother see reason and maybe accept that his idea had been less than foolproof the night before.

He didn't know if he had been successful or if Stan just didn't care anymore.

Stan didn't argue with him. Just nodded, listened quietly to his entire plan before collecting his belongings ready for them to be out on the road again.

There was no emotion on his face, no defiance, no stubborn resistance, just... acceptance.

Ford had never thought he'd hate his brother listening to him without argument until that moment.

The silence grated on him far quicker than he could possibly have imagined. 

The time tape burned a hole in his pocket, the chance to change the conversation they'd had the night before right there for the taking.

He bit down on the urge as Stan nodded at him to take the lead, all that he got in acknowledgement really that he was ready to do what had to be done. Ford nodded back in kind, trying to fill the empty spaces with conversation as they left, trying his best to get back to where they'd been before, only to be thwarted by his brother responding in single word answers wherever possible.

It hurt. It hurt more than he cared to admit, to think just how far their progress had deteriorated the night before.

And it was ironic really, how much he didn't want to deal with this- the consequence of his actions.

But to act on that notion, to turn back time and change things. After lashing out as hard as he had...

The hypocrisy was almost blinding, itching guiltily away at the back of his skull at the mere thought.

...At least Stan no longer wanted to force the issue, at least this way they really could get the best possible outcome available to them.

At least this way he could take down Bill without any complaints.

Ford shook the terrible idea from his head, the time tape momentarily forgotten, as he steeled himself, the thought of defeating Bill at the forefront of his mind once more.

He had bigger things to concern himself with.

Making amends with Stan could wait.


End file.
